


➴• Lost Stars •➶

by foreverfangirling



Series: Sister Winchester !! ♡ [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Being an Asshole, Family Reunion, Pre-Supernatural (TV), Reunion i suppose, Siblings, Teen OFC, Teen Sam Winchester, actually, bless, but they don't realise yet, fluffish??, lots of confusion for OFC, no violence, sister winchester, slight AU, sorry - Freeform, there's reference to nov. 2nd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverfangirling/pseuds/foreverfangirling
Summary: Believing she died along side their mother in the tragic fire of '84, Sam - sixteen - and Dean - twenty - have hardly ever mentioned the loss of their only little sister, Lara Mary Winchester; their father, however, can beg to differ, and strongly chooses to not believe that he lost both his girls in that tragic night all those Novembers ago. So, after fifteen years, what will become of these three Winchester siblings when they are reunited under perplexing circumstances?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Started 21/3/16 — Nowhere near finishing but  
> Published 25/11/16 — Still nowhere near finishing as a whole series so here's just the first part; doubtful it will be uploaded as a series to be honest aHA.
> 
> paired fic with 'all those stars recall your goodbye'
> 
> Regretfully, I do not own Supernatural or any of its original characters that will be mentioned in this fic; if I did, I solemnly swear that our boys would not be so sorrowful all the time, and would have a life-long supply of happiness and pie. I have, nevertheless, created an Original Female Character called Lara Mary Winchester.  
> ALSO: I had to change the year of the fire for the story line's purposes (in my head), so sorry for any confusion with that in the summary.
> 
>  
> 
> 'Lost Stars' is a song I absolutely love from the commendable film 'Begin Again', and has two different versions, sung once by Keira Knightley and secondly by Adam Levine; the latter is my favourite version, and I highly recommend you listen to it, as well as all the other songs I use for chapter titles.

**Song lyrics used in chapter title are from** **_ Bastille _ ** **'s song '** **_ Laughter Lines _ ** **'**

 

✰☄

 

 **Date & Time:** November 2nd 1999 — 10:31:11am _and counting_ | **Location:** Naperville, Illinois; USA

Harsh fluorescence. That, to begin with, was the foremost sensation Lara Winchester felt in an overbearing list of many other factors. Just for that instant millisecond, the dreary English weather, the familiarly-damp odoured alleyway squashed between the council houses all suddenly became _too much_ , as if both aspects had welded together and the heating process had sparked right before her eyes, momentarily blinding her.

The numb droning shortly followed the intense flash. To her, the buzz was oddly solacing; it reminded her of how her eardrums thrummed and heart danced against her ribs from the aftermath of being at a live concert, until that too turned bitter, and the noise turned into a shrilling _wail_. With her eyes scrunched closed, Lara used one arm to clutch around her temple and stumbled forwards, seeking out the cardinal-red brick wall with the other, finding it with no avail even though the alleyway was that of constricting space.  
Languidly, the shrill waned into sound effects of an unnaturally raucous street which, only then, had begun to seep through Lara's befuddled brain, consuming her within a mass of thunderous engines and rich accents, neither which certainly did _not_ belong to any of the locals of Slough. When the noises became unceasing, Lara felt like she had little choice but to – with much apprehension – open her eyes.

At first, she felt like she was in the world's biggest practical _joke_. There was no other explanation. It was a monstrosity. It was impossible.  
It was an _impossible monstrosity_.  
But then, with sheer bewilderment, nothing changed. The clamour persisted; cars boasting those resounding engines hurtled by and people faded passed the mouth of the alley. Obtusely, they were not the familiar British people.  
The impossible monstrosity prevailed.

The intense light from mere seconds ago had dwindled into the alley she was in, but – phenomenally – it had swelled compared to the original minuscule path, creating a confluence of concrete with the road ahead. High buildings had all but demolished the compact council blocks, casting out the blaring sun that had conspicuously dissolved early dusk light into a late dawn gleam. Lara suddenly felt nauseous.

Gingerly stepping forwards, her eyes saw that rubbish tips littered the edges of the alley, with spacious room to spare for the few vehicles that had been parked haphazardly. As dizziness overwhelmed her, Lara strode feebly towards the lively road, startling some civilians with her abruptness. She clasped onto her school bag's shoulder-strap as an anchor and frantically surveyed objects around her; now being more in the open, Lara examined that there were shop names that she did not recognise and that the vehicles were driving on the wrong side of the road. Fear coursed through her blood once she comprehended what accent these strangers were rambling on in, and that this was no longer English soil; that – madly– she had voyaged far, far West. Within the _speed of light_. If she had been in a lighter mood, Lara would have commented a witty remark about the _'Concorde'_ being envious of her, but her light-headedness suddenly got the better of her and, whilst attempting to walk, she half collapsed into a gangly form.

"Woah, are you all right?" The guy – not much older than Lara, her mind inconvenientlyobserved(minus the _exceptional_ height) – asked softly, generous hands grasping onto each of her uniform-clad arms. From the side of him, Lara registered another male voice that quipped tersely: "Looks like you have an admirer there, Sammy."

With little comprehension from her hazy head, Lara's quivering lips began babblingincoherently, "Please, you have to help me. I have no idea where the hell I am. I'm so confused. I'm not supposed to be here, I have to get back —"

"Hey, you need to calm down," The juvenile – 'Sammy' supposedly – expressed, slightly shaking her arms as the second guy (now acting a lot less cocky) gently tugged them away from the flourishing crowd. Only after, when lanky continued by saying: "Take some deep breaths." did Lara realise that her lungs were breathing out erratic puffs.

"Why don't you tell us your name?" The young man spoke up, drawing her attention from both breathing like a normal human being again and from 'Sammy', who was currently sporting the most heart-wrenching puppy look on his face, _damn it._ In any other situation, Lara would have protested with the classic 'Stranger Danger' phrasethat had beendrilledinto herbrainas atoddler all the way up through primary education. But, alas, those glazed-over hazel eyes had won her over, and with a heavy sigh, she croaked **:** "Lara. My name is Lara."

Her laboured breathing, however, had drenched over her; she scarcely managed to hear 'Sammy' say that his name was in fact _just_ Sam and that his brother was called something along the lines of _Dee,_ before the uneasiness had dragged her under a dreamless state.

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:** 10:28:58am _and counting_ | **Same Location**

Dean Winchester had embraced who he was long ago. Unlike the average American, each week Dean tackled the monsters that hide under childrens' beds and creatures that go _bump_ in the night.  
And he _likes_ it.  
He enjoys defeating all those sons of bitches that threatens the oh-so-domestic little towns of America, and savours being the saviour of _ordinary_ families (whom he would never admit to being a small bit desirous over) and, of course, of the beautiful women who repay him with their flirtatious flaunting.  
Nevertheless, Dean can not understand – and doubts he ever will – why his teenage brother contrasts his _want_ to rid the world of evil.

Because Sam Winchester very much _dislikes_ it.  
As a sixteen year old,Sam's perspective on ' _The Family Business_ ' falters; sure, he likes to help the odd citizen with the monster-ganking (Dean's expression, not his), but Sam would rather have the apple-pie life of going to college, meeting a nice girl and settling down at Average Joe's house with the white picket fence. Sam does not understand – and doubts he ever will – why his adult brother shadows their dad and follows his orders like a good, little army soldier. ****  
But even though they have their doubts, the brother stick together like glue; whenever his baby brother's hormones kick in, Dean likes to summarise Sam with ' _bitch_ ', which Sam always defiantly replies with ' _jerk'_.

So, you would say that as Hunters (willingly or not), you'd expect them to be prepared for anything and everything; from the ghastly to the inevitable.

Neither of them expected _this_ when they woke up that Tuesday morning.

The second day of November had always been a touchy-feely subject for the Winchesters (father included.) Tension lingers above them all like a rain cloud would in a cartoon throughout the day, and would only die away once the clock struck midnight; they try and talk to each other and act like nothing happened over a decade ago, but it's a strenuous task, as Dean becomes irritable and Sam wallows in deep repentance.  
Since it had been fifteen years since the fire, Sam noted as soon as he awoke that Dean was impeccably more volatile than usual; his older brother had barked at him to get his ass out of bed so they could get breakfast from down the road, which was followed by the bathroom door being slammed behind Dean impertinently.  
Lethargically getting out of bed and changing, Sam had intellectually sent a prayer to the Gods for the day to pass swiftly so that Dean's stiff-upper-lip and the tension between them would seep away. Nonetheless, he was grateful for once that his brother had decided that there was no point in Sam going to the local school, since they would undoubtedly been whisked away again by their dad within a matter of days, and that Dean himself understood that he would be in no mood to sit in school _today_ for seven hours.

Leaving the motel freshly washed, Dean tugged his brother out the door at just before half-ten, giving them plenty of time to find a diner within breakfast-period. Neither of them had any witty remarks to say towards each other like they would normally, so they walked down the thriving street in silence. _Great_ , Dean brooded. Whilst he sulked slightly, Dean spotted a diner across the street. _Well, at least there's food_. About tothwack his brother on the arm to grab his attention, someone else beat him to it, landing squarely against Sam's chest and startling the brothers.

Little did they know that this minor collision had activated a major change to all three lives; the Winchester siblings had been reunited.

**Author's Note:**

> If it's decent then please leave comments/votes and I might continue it a little lol.


End file.
